


Black Leather Galleries

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-16 18:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9285116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Caught admiring questionable magazines, Hermione receives a gift with unexpected results.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in Jan of 2005 (post-OotP, pre-HBP) so it's *VERY* AU.

“What _are_ you reading..?” came a delighted drawl from behind Hermione.

 

“Get the hell away from me!” she hissed, quickly stuffing the magazine under a book and glancing furtively at the other reading material strewn about the table; hopefully, there were no other magazines in view. “This is my section of the library…”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Granger… I doubt your ancestors contributed to the construction of this colossus of the Wizarding World… ”

 

Malfoy’s sarcasm was not lost on Hermione. She waited, uncomfortably twisted in her chair, for the prat to spit out his insult and leave.

 

“Give me that book,” he said with a smirk, nodding towards the table. Hermione stole a quick look before her; the magazine was peeking from the book’s pages. A tiny blush appeared on the witch’s cheeks… Had Malfoy spotted what she’d been looking at?

 

“You can’t have this one. I’m not finished with it yet.” Protectively, Hermione gathered up the book and pulled it to her chest. She watched Malfoy out of the corner of her eye as he stepped around her and leaned against the table.

 

“Let me have a look…” he said, smirking knowingly.

 

Hermione ground her teeth together; Malfoy enjoyed irritating her a bit too much.

 

Since the beginning of their seventh year, Malfoy hadn’t called her Mudblood. Hermione didn’t know what had changed his mind about her parentage being a thing of shame but it didn’t matter; the burden of defending her Muggle heritage was lifted. However, Hermione was facing a new aspect of the Slytherin. Whenever she ran into him, he still picked on her and the prat never missed the opportunity to hex another student, but he wasn’t angry or bitter. He seemed to have outgrown his hate.

 

Considering that as the Head students, they were forced to share a Common Room, the wizard’s change of heart was fortuitous.

 

“I know what you’ve got hidden under your mattress, Granger…” Malfoy said.

 

Hermione frowned; “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Malfoy continued staring at her with that knowing grin and she felt her cheeks grow hotter. She had wards on her door! There was no way he knew! In her astonishment, Hermione sat quietly fixed in her chair while Malfoy leaned towards her.

 

“Black leather..?” he purred.

 

Hermione gasped. He did know! The prat had gotten into her room and gone through it and found her magazines! She’d kill him! Hermione’s brain swam with mortification and anger. She saw white spots in her vision and couldn’t seem to get to her wand.

 

“Why do you like it?” the young wizard asked suddenly.

 

Blinking, Hermione quit fumbling for her wand and nearly choked.

 

“I’m not- I won’t discuss this with you!”

 

Flustered, Hermione began packing up her notes, careful not to touch Malfoy.

 

“Why not? I doubt you discuss it with Potty or the Weasel…” he said matter-of-factly, placing a palm on her stack of notes so that she couldn’t snatch them up and leave.

 

“Look, Malfoy; I am not going to discuss anything related to sex with you. That is that.”

 

Hermione was steaming now; her initial embarrassment dissolved into annoyance in the face of Malfoy’s demand. She pulled on her parchment until he let it go. With a huff, she tossed her curls over her shoulder and hurried from the library.

 

* * *

 

“I didn’t even mention sex, Granger…”

 

Aghast, Hermione looked up to see Malfoy standing in her doorway. She couldn’t believe it! She’d just put a new series of spells on her door that shouldn’t have let anyone but her open it!

 

“Damn you, Malfoy! Leave it alone…” she groaned, feeling defeated.

 

“You can’t bring up sex in a conversation about black leather and expect me to drop it, Granger,” said Malfoy, idly examining his fingernails.

 

“There was and is no conversation.”

 

To Hermione’s great mortification, Malfoy sauntered into her room and tossed a rolled-up magazine onto the bed. It was the first edition of ‘Black Leather Galleries’ she’d bought.

 

In a futile attempt to smooth the curled pages, Hermione sat up on her knees and ran her hands over the cover.

 

“You’ve ruined it, Malfoy! These are expensive…” she admonished. Hermione was pulled from the task of unwrinkling her treasured magazine when Malfoy climbed onto the bed with her.

 

“What are you doing? Get off of my bed! Get out of my room!” she squealed indignantly.

 

The blond Slytherin made a face at her, “I’m not going to do anything – keep your knickers on.”

 

He snagged the pricey magazine from Hermione and she scrambled off the mattress. Put-out and not sure how to get the wizard off of her bed, she stood uncertainly a few steps away. Meanwhile, Malfoy began idly turning pages, eyes lingering over the pictures as if they were illustrations in a Potions text.

 

“Why do you like it?” he asked again.

 

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, “For Merlin’s sake! Isn’t it obvious? Look at them! They’re beautiful…” It was plain that Malfoy wasn’t going to let her avoid it; so she gave in and looked over his shoulder at the photographs.

 

They were simple pictures and certainly not distasteful; men and women in various poses, clad in nothing but strips or scraps of leather. The flesh of clean limbs broken by solid, dark lines…

 

Hermione, unconsciously, sighed when Malfoy flipped to her favorite page. The picture was of a woman’s face, divided by a ball-gag. Her cherry-red lips stretched by the large object, black straps cutting across her hollowed cheeks. Eyes closed in abandon and blond, bobbed hair falling gently on her face… It inspired a feeling of silent, calm, surrender…

 

“You like this one..?” he asked, peering up at her.

 

Hermione bit her lip, “Yes, well… They’re nice to look at… Why do you want to know this, anyway?”

 

“I’m just curious… And you have to admit, it’s a bit of a shock… You… Leather…” he chuckled and Hermione frowned.

 

“All right, so you know now… Will you please leave?”

 

As if he hadn’t heard, Malfoy continued looking at the magazine, shoes kicking in the air.

 

“Have you got any..?” he asked quietly.

 

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, “Got any what?”

 

“Black leather,” Malfoy said simply, mischievously glancing up.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous – of course not.”

 

“She thinks _I'm_ ridiculous when _she's_ the one with wank material stuffed under her bed…” Malfoy muttered.

 

Torn between exasperation and embarrassment, Hermione snapped; “I would never look like that!”

 

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her and sat up on his knees. He watched Hermione turn a variety of colors under his pensive stare then got up and left her room without another word.

 

Hermione huffed and vowed to find a locking spell for her door that the prat couldn’t break.


	2. Chapter 2

“What have you got there, Hermione?” Ron asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

 

Hermione looked over the little package carefully; an unfamiliar owl had dropped it into her salad. There was no indication of where the tiny box had originated. The witch held it up to her ear and shook it; something light was inside. It softly hit the sides of its cardboard prison.

 

With a shrug, Hermione pulled off the wrapping and popped open the box. Inside was a thick, black leather collar. Hermione’s first instinct was to hide it but Ron and Harry were looking over her shoulder and the damage had been done.

 

“Is that for Crookshanks? You’ll never get him to wear it…” said Harry.

 

Fighting a blush, Hermione slowly put the collar back into the box; “I expect you’re right. Mum must have ordered it.” Hermione sought out the blond Slytherin across the Hall; he was watching her. And, of course, he was smirking.

 

* * *

 

Hermione was studying, propped up by pillows on her bed and she didn’t bat an eyelash when Malfoy pushed open her bedroom door; she’d given up finding ways to keep him out. Short of _Colloportus_ , there weren’t many options that were legal within the school.

 

“Did you try it on yet?”

 

Hermione flipped a page of her textbook and made a note on the parchment beside her.

 

“I’m busy just now, Malfoy…” she said in a tired voice.

 

“Not even a ‘thank you’…” he muttered, perching on the end of Hermione’s bed. She glared at him for his boldness. “Don’t Muggles teach their children manners?”

 

“You dare mock me about manners, Mr. Doesn’t-Know-How-to-Knock?”

 

Malfoy grinned, “You’ve already tried it on, haven’t you..?”

 

Hermione shook her head; she had put the thing in its box and pointedly left it on her desk. “It’s not an appropriate gift, Malfoy.”

 

“Appropriate,” he snorted. “Granger, you beat all. Go get the damned thing and try it on.”

 

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Malfoy. Now will you leave me to my homework?!” Hermione snapped. She’d had about enough of the Slytherin’s audacity.

 

Malfoy didn’t look perturbed at the witch’s dry words; in fact, there was a distinct amount of amusement twitching around his lips.

 

“You know you want to…” he purred.

 

Disgusted, Hermione tossed her book aside and scrambled off the bed. She marched over to the package innocently sitting on her desk and grabbed the collar.

 

“Fine, Malfoy; fine. You want to see it on? Is that it?” she trilled, fumbling with the fastenings on the back of her neck. She noted the intense interest in his eyes just as she finally got the snaps fastened.

 

The blond wizard had turned to watch her; his silver eyes gleamed while the lamp on her bedside table sent shadows over the rest of his face.

 

Hermione gasped; the collar had tightened. She lifted her hand to it and felt small lengths of leather growing from it. The strips stretched under her nightdress, spreading down her back, chest and arms. The soft, grainy underside of the leather slithered down her limbs, winding around her forearms and calves. When thin strips encircled her breasts and slid down between her thighs, she wanted to curl into a ball on the floor and writhe.

 

With the thick, black material touching her intimately, like something alive, Hermione forgot that Malfoy was present. She took shallow breaths, relishing how her every movement made the leather tighten and caress her skin. Finally, the odd collar seemed to have encased her to its intent.

 

Pliable, buttery leather warmed the soles of her feet; she kicked off her slippers to look. Awed to see her own skin complimented by the relished hide, she lifted the edge of her dress to see her legs. She was startled at how lovely they looked; stark, black creeping up her pale legs. The simple movement of pulling up the hem of her dress made Hermione blissfully aware of the straps between her legs. They wound around the crux of her thighs and joined together right over the tight bud of her arse.

 

Hermione gave a tiny moan and experimented with her range of movement. She raised her arms, rotating them slowly to see what strand, pulled where.

 

Draco, meanwhile, remained still as a statue. While he’d never seen a person become so oblivious to his presence, he didn’t want to spoil the chance to watch her wonder. The witch had forgotten everything save sensation. Breathing slowly and noiselessly, he watched her self-exploration, noting every flush and change in her expression.

 

When the young woman suddenly pattered towards the bathroom, Draco hesitated to follow. He stopped breathing altogether when she pulled her nightdress completely off. She stood before the mirror, looking at her pale body criss-crossed with black. He was entranced by her awe; she looked every bit as good in the leather as the models in her magazines, but he found her arousal more of an aphrodisiac. He knew she would fly through the roof if she remembered he was there. So, while she turned before the mirror, her classic body glinting between thick stripes of leather, he quietly slipped into the shadows of the corner.

 

Hermione hovered in the bathroom, loving the feel of her encased body. She tapped her finger on the counter and felt the little movement echo across her skin. Deliberately slow, Hermione traced her fingers over the straps circling her breasts; they pebbled in response to her light touch over the leather.

 

In an effort to tease herself and not rush, she followed the strips down her chest to her abdomen and finally touched skin with her fingertips. A melodic moan tore from her as she gently probed her dripping slit. She closed her eyes and leaned onto the counter, onto her hand, the leather garment obligingly spreading her thighs and stealing her breath when hide softly abraded the pucker of her arse.

 

Hermione gently rode her fingers, feeling cold countertop interspersed with taut, warm leather. Flesh divided, marked, inhibited in some spots by its bindings; Hermione creamed on her fingers, plunging them inside her hot passage, grinding her hips hard and fast.

 

Draco thought he’d break skin if he bit his lip any harder. He fought the groan rising in his throat at the delicious sight of the witch twisting uninhibited on the counter. He had a perfect view of her wet hand pushing into her twat. His cock had instantly come to painful attention when Granger drew her hands down her body. Then she'd parted her divine lips and Draco'd had to hold his breath.

 

She was too far gone to notice the sound of a zipper; Draco's hand jerked fiercely on his cock, trying to match the rhythmic motion of Granger’s hips. He couldn’t help himself; and for that matter, why should he? It was her fault for forgetting he was sitting on her bed…

 

A young woman spread out, delectably wrapped in a tight, leather package… Who wouldn’t hide to watch..?

 

Granger gasped and moaned and the sound sent Draco right over the top; bliss stealing his faculties for a second, he let out the groan that had been building low in his gut and it mingled with Granger’s final gush of verbalized satisfaction.

 

Both young people leaned, catching their breaths and basking in orgasmic glow.

 

Draco recovered first and hurried out of the room, wondering when the hexes would start.

 

Bathed in a fine sheen of sweat, Hermione took longer to collect herself. She’d never had an orgasm that powerful before. She’d never so fully given herself to masturbating that she lost control like that…

 

Shaking, Hermione stood and relished the lingering tremors of bliss that shot through her. Gingerly, she lifted her hands and parted her hair to unclasp the collar. She’d had enough for one night and wanted to temper the experience. It was almost frightening what Malfoy’s gift had done.

 

Malfoy!

 

Shit!

 

Her bedroom door was ajar.

 

In her hands, the collar instantly shrank back to its original size, leaving Hermione stark naked in the bathroom. She snatched up her robe and yanked the ties shut. Then the witch marched over to her door; across the Common Room, Malfoy’s door was shut.

 

Perhaps he’d left before she’d taken complete leave of her senses…


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Hermione peeked into the Common Room then dashed through it and into the corridor. She wasn’t convinced Malfoy’d seen her masturbate but she seemed to recall a voice matching hers the night before. She’d dreamt over and over that he stood behind her, watching and stroking himself. Perhaps she’d woven the idea into her mind; regardless, she wasn’t ready to face him.

 

Hermione had a quiet breakfast then went up to the library to study; however, her imagination gave her no peace. She caught herself glancing up, waiting for Malfoy to appear. Disgusted, she finally admitted she needed to ask him if he’d seen what she’d done. Normally, Hermione was not shy; nor was she one to hide from confrontation; yet, asking Malfoy if he’d stuck around once she’d shucked her nightclothes was not something she was looking forward to.

 

Walking slowly back to her dormitory, Hermione reasoned that if the ferret had watched, he would have mocked her or tried to take advantage of the situation. He was a Slytherin, after all…

 

By the time Hermione was standing before her shared Common Room, she wasn’t sure what she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted to confront Malfoy; maybe seeing his face would be enough to tell her what, exactly, had happened.

 

“ _Hostis proximare*_ ,” Hermione muttered to the portrait. The neutral toned room was empty. Hermione guessed that Malfoy had joined the majority of the students on the trail to Hogsmeade. Miffed and still preoccupied, Hermione waved her wand towards the fireplace and flame sputtered to flickering life.

 

She snagged a random book from a shelf and forgot about it, staring at the fire. She couldn’t get the collar out of her mind. Shreds of her dreams wandered through her mind. She wanted to put the collar on again and see what happened… Hermione wondered if the thing had enchanted her.

 

The curly-haired witch sensed movement out of the corner of her eyes and jumped. Malfoy had stepped into the Common area _from her room_.

 

“You prat! What were you doing in my room?” she shouted. As if her nerves weren’t already stretched thin enough, the sneaky wizard was probably raiding her magazine stash.

 

Malfoy smoothly covered his surprise, “Looking for you.”

 

“Oh..?” asked Hermione.

 

“I wanted to ask how you liked my gift,” he said, dropping into the armchair across from Hermione. Curiosity in his gaze and an annoyingly knowing grin on his lips, Malfoy waited for her reply.

 

Heat darkened Hermione’s cheeks but she refused to look away from Malfoy. His lips twitched and she guessed the answer to her unasked question. He had seen… And, perhaps, she knew it on a subconscious level.

 

“You watched me, didn’t you..?” she whispered.

 

Malfoy shrugged, “Yes.”

 

“Did you-?” Hermione stopped herself from blurting her next question. She just couldn’t inquire if he’d touched himself like she’d dreamed.

 

“Did I what?”

 

 _Of course_ Malfoy would want to embarrass her. _Of course_ he wanted to extort his knowledge of her sexual activities… Then again…he hadn’t told anyone about the collar… He hadn’t presented it to her before the entire school… An unknown owl had delivered the simple, unmarked package.

 

“How- how much did you see?” Hermione finally stuttered. She was melting under his unwavering stare.

 

Malfoy shrugged again; his pale eyes moved down Hermione’s body as if she weren’t dressed, and then slowly back to hers. He winked.

 

Flattered, unsure, Hermione didn’t know what to say. A wash of cold then a wash of heat ran over her; chills trickled down her spine. Her nipples peaked and her knickers grew damp. It amazed Hermione that her body responded to nothing more than a look.

 

It amazed Hermione that Malfoy was interested.

 

She took a calming breath and got up from her chair; she could feel him watching her move towards her room. With deliberate care, Hermione began to unbutton her blouse. She shrugged out of it and unzipped her skirt. She undressed to her knickers before glancing at the door. He was watching…

 

“ _Accio_ collar,” Hermione casually flipped her wand towards her vanity and the collar zipped straight into her hand. Malfoy crossed the room and gently plucked the collar from her; he moved behind her and brushed her curls aside.

 

Hermione could practically see her heart racing in her chest as Malfoy brought the short bit of leather around her neck. His hands were warm on her skin… The collar clicked as he handled the snaps and it immediately tightened.

 

As the thinner straps grew, Malfoy’s hands preceded them down Hermione’s body. She closed her eyes and leaned into his palms; he slid her knickers off. The sensation of being enveloped was made sweeter and more poignant by his touch. Hermione felt Malfoy at her back; the starch of his shirt chafed her shoulder blades. She took his hands from her waist; she directed one to splay over her stomach and the other to her throat.

 

Hermione knew what she wanted; she had no issues with showing the young man. Her worry came that he might, at any second, pull away in disgust. As if reading her mind, Malfoy pressed his lips to the top of her shoulder and pulled her against his length, tilting her chin up. Warm fingers curled along her neck, flexing with the threat of strength but not cutting off her air. His wet mouth nibbled up her shoulder until she could hear him breathing in her ear.

 

The sound and feel of him wrapped around her made Hermione bold; he hadn’t left yet…

 

The young woman laced her fingers through those across her stomach and guided them further down. Malfoy groaned as their fingers parted the downy fur between her thighs. Hermione felt his erection swell against her back and knew power. Letting her little fear slip away, she gasped when she pushed their fingers between her nether lips and he took over.

 

Draco could barely stand. A petite, sexy, Muggle-born witch was in his arms, urging him to touch her. He wanted nothing more than to push her over the edge of her bed and sink into her slippery, hot depths. Her flesh tasted like baked sugar. Her hair smelled like the heat of a summer day. The passion broiling just under the surface of her skin made teasing promises he couldn’t wait to redeem.

 

As gently as he could, he teased the witch’s wet depths, edging just a fingertip into her, collecting her moisture and spreading it through her folds. She quietly gasped and moaned; he felt it through his palm on her neck. Draco wanted more; he wanted her twisting and calling his name as she rode him…

 

Granger began rocking her hips against Draco’s hand, leaning into him for support. With a wordless growl, Draco obliged and slid a finger deep inside her. The hands that had been clenched at her sides smoothed backwards across Draco’s hips, over his arse and clutched his thighs. Draco gladly responded by skimming his damp finger over her clit. Granger gasped and cried out, her bum moving deliciously over his cock.

 

Unwilling to wait longer, Draco stepped back and gave Granger a little shove towards her bed.

 

Panting under the threat of pleasure, Hermione crawled onto her quilt and slowly turned over. The constricting leather rubbed across her skin, making raw lines of her flesh burn. She met Malfoy’s eyes as he quickly undressed; he, most certainly, wasn’t disgusted.  Nor was he going to leave…

 

Apprehensive, Hermione stared when Malfoy’s naked, white body climbed onto her. He must have seen her fear because he looked at her questioningly.

 

“I don’t- don’t know what to do…” she whispered.

 

Malfoy smirked and leaned over her face; his lips captured hers and she parted her lips to his tongue. Mindless with the kiss, Hermione didn’t realize she’d wrapped her arms around the wizard until he grabbed her wrists and pinned them to her sides.

 

Hermione reveled within the trapped sensation, her mind swam and let go completely. She struggled to free her arms, but Malfoy leaned harder on them; her binding leather garment stretched across her body. When a knee pushed her leg over and another shoved her other leg aside, she felt the crux of her thighs soak the quilt beneath her. Malfoy understood what she was after almost too well…

 

Draco managed to hold Granger’s arms down and position himself at the soft gates of her body; he teased her a bit more, coating the head of his cock in her juices.

 

“Draco…” she purred. The sound of his name from her lips was instantly gratifying. He pushed inside of her slowly, she was almost too tight. Granger’s leaking slit pulsed around his cock and he held his breath until his full length was buried within her. If she was a virgin, the barrier had been very thin.

 

Granger lifted her hips, urging Draco to move. Draco knew he wouldn’t last long; the witch wrapped in black leather straps presented a beautiful picture. Not to mention that he was sheathed within her throbbing body. Granger… He had Granger fixed under him… And she wanted him there… Him… The bane of her existence for the past six years… He just might love the little witch…

 

Draco’d managed to set aside his prejudice. That didn’t change his opinion that she was a know-it-all, but discovering her secret sexual side tarnished the immaculate reputation of Gryffindor’s Golden Girl. It made him like her better.

 

Abandoning his brief moment of awe, Draco eased out, then back inside of Granger. She breathed deep, in time to his lazy thrusts. Her parted lips begged to be abused. Draco caught her mouth, swallowing her continuous mews. The leather-wrapped arms under his palms had grown still; Draco lifted himself on his hands. Granger’s reaction was immediate.

 

Hermione was suddenly ensnared by nothing more than Malfoy’s weight. She was fixed immobile by the scratch of his wiry-haired pelvis over her clit. Each brush left a tremble in its wake. Hermione lifted her tingling arms and sunk her nails into his arse, urging him to move faster, sink deeper.

 

Malfoy drew a ragged breath, “Hermione…”

 

The sound went straight to Hermione’s chest; she met his gaze. “Come, Draco… Inside me…”

 

Granger was a smart girl; she wouldn’t tell him to come inside her if she wasn’t protected.

 

Hermione dug her nails into his arse again; with a sharp cry, Malfoy shoved hard, pushing Hermione a few centimeters across her quilt and sending her into consuming bliss.

 

Draco reflexively dropped onto Granger as his orgasm consumed him. Dimly, he felt her tiny hands smoothing over his back. She kissed his shoulder and he took that as his cue to move.

 

When Malfoy rolled onto his side, Hermione stretched and winced. The collar and its family of extensions had abraded her from neck to toe. She gingerly unsnapped it; the strips of leather snaked back into the collar.

 

“So, are you going to tell me what you were really doing in my room..?” she asked Malfoy with a smirk.

 

Draco smirked back and nodded towards her nightstand, “I left you a thank you gift.”

 

Hermione looked over and saw a small box of chocolates. With a grin, she grabbed it and opened it, “I’ll be expecting a much larger box for tonight…”

 

The End

 

A/N:  * _Hostis_ = enemy, _proximare_ = come closer

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the following request by Ann: *"Get the hell away from me this is my section." *magazines (can be any type from fashion to naughty) *chocolate *no angst, no blood, no Hagrid? lol.


End file.
